


Practically Family

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Platonic Flynn/Jiya, Platonic Love, Romantic Rufus/Jiya, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: “I’m not trying to replace her.” It seems important to her, suddenly, that he understands. He tenses, briefly, then relaxes, his hold on her becoming less stiff, more steady.“I know.”-Jiya and Rufus are finally getting married, and she has an unexpected favor to ask of Flynn.





	Practically Family

**Author's Note:**

> This little plot bunny came from several long conversations with only-freakin-sunflowers on Tumblr. I really love the dynamic between Flynn and Jiya, and hope we get to explore it further next season. We also really need a Riya wedding, if only so that we can see the chaos that unfolds from trying to get married in a situation like they're in. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas, and only-freakin-sunflowers deserves credit for what Jiya asks Flynn. I hope you enjoy!

She can do this.

 

It's fine.

 

She survived three years on her own in 1888 Chinatown. This is nothing. This is cake. (So if her body could just remember how to breathe, that would be great.)

 

Before she can talk herself out of it, she reaches out, rapping her knuckles against the metal door. Once. Twice. Three times, then she pulls back, and waits.

 

She doesn't have to wait long before the door opens, and a puzzled Garcia Flynn sticks his head out.  _No going back now_. When he sees her, he frowns, looking her up and down in concern. "Everything alright? Did the Mothership jump?"

 

A brief twinge of guilt flickers-is that really the only time they seek him out?-but she pushes past it, shaking her head. She's here now, after all. "No, no, everything's fine," she assures. "I was just wondering if I could talk to you? For a second?"

 

He relaxes, the soldier in him standing down at the lack of danger. His frown doesn't lessen, though, as he nods, gesturing for her to step into his room. She takes the room in, surprised by the number of books, and the lack of... Something. Chaos, maybe? It doesn't look like the room of a terrorist. (Not that he is, anymore. Or maybe they all are. She isn't actually sure at this point.) Still, it's surprisingly normal.

 

There's a single chair in the middle of the room, worn and fraying. She plops down on it, sits back, and waits. After a moment's consideration, he sits on the bed, facing her. "What is it?"

 

Right.

 

She's rehearsed this a thousand times in her head, but somehow, the words stick in her throat. "I was hoping...." Nope. Outright asking him isn't going to work. She clears her throat and tries again. "It's just, Mason is doing the wedding, and Agent Christopher is walking me down the aisle. Wyatt is the best man. But...."

 

His brows furrow, and he tilts his head in confusion. Not surprising. After all, he knows all of this, has been surprisingly involved in the wedding plans so far. (And she's eternally grateful. Planning a wedding while fighting a war and living in a metal bunker is easier said than done, and he's been nothing but helpful the whole time.) It's part of why she wants to ask him this. If she could just get the stupid words out. "The father-daughter dance," she blurts, instantly wishing she could take it back.

 

His eyes widen, and it's clear that, whatever he was expecting her to say, it wasn't that. "I-"

 

Suddenly, she really doesn't want him to say no. Without quite knowing why, she hurriedly adds, "I know, it's not exactly the same. You aren't my father, and I'm not your-" She stumbles over the word, watches him stiffen, and elects to skip it altogether. "I know. But... My dad isn't here. And I was just thinking that, since your... Since we... Well, it's like you said: we're practically family, right?" He doesn't respond, and she tries not to panic. "Look, you don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, there doesn't even need to be a dance. I was just hoping-"

 

"Jiya." One word, and they both fall silent.

 

A thousand expressions are flickering across his face, most gone before she can identify them, but there is grief, pain, and something else, something she can't find a name for. She waits, patiently, (terrified,) for him to gather his thoughts. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him this. After all, his daughter is still an open wound, all these years later. Probably always will be, at least until they save her. She probably just hurt him. Poured salt on a raw sore.

 

And yet, she can't help but hope.

 

He coughs, eyes closing briefly, before looking at her with a smile. It's soft, pained, and so brittle it might break at any moment, and she has no idea what to do. "I'd be honored," he says, so quietly that she almost doesn't hear him.

 

Relief floods her, and she moves without thinking, launching herself into his arms. He freezes for several seconds, but she hangs on, instinctively knowing that he needs this. Maybe they both do.

 

Slowly, cautiously, he wraps his arms around her, uncertainly returning the embrace.

 

“I'm not trying to replace her.” It seems important to her, suddenly, that he understands. He tenses, briefly, then relaxes, his hold on her becoming less stiff, more steady.

 

“I know.”

 

"Thank you," she whispers against his shirt, and she can almost hear the smile in his voice when he replies.

 

"Any time."

 

-

The wedding... Is a disaster, frankly.

 

Between the Rittenhouse interruption, the last-minute venue change, and the menu mishap, (how on earth did they end up with coconut cake?) by the time they say "I do," she's exhausted.

 

It's a disaster, it's chaotic... And it's perfect.

 

Perfectly them, in any case. Rufus beams down at her like he can't believe she's real, and when he kisses her, the stresses of the day melt away. Whatever happens, whatever they face, they can face it as husband and wife.

 

The rest of the ceremony is a blur, and all too soon, it's time for the dance.

 

When they'd practiced, it had been hard for both of them; she couldn't stop thinking of how unfair it was that her father wouldn't be there for this, and his eyes had watered more than once, no doubt thinking of his own daughter. Now, however, she's in much better spirits, and he seems to be as well.

 

He takes her hand with a smile, his other hand settling on her waist, and leads her through the dance with practiced ease. "I didn't get a chance to say it before," he murmurs, in that teasing voice that he uses to hide how sincere he is, "but congratulations, Mrs. Marri-Carlin." He drags out each syllable, and she briefly wonders if he could be any more dramatic, before deciding that she doesn't want to know. Besides, she has better things to focus on. Like how amazing it is to be Mrs. Marri-Carlin.

 

Surprisingly, the idea of hyphenating actually came from Rufus; she would have been perfectly happy to take his name, but she likes this even better, combining their names the way they're combining their lives. (And if wedding planning has made her sappy, well... Sue her.)

 

Belatedly, she realizes that she should respond. "Thanks. And thank you again for doing this."

 

His smile softens, for half a second, and he nods in acknowledgement. She doesn't push, just smiles back.

 

And her head starts to buzz.

 

She has just enough time to warn him, to half-choke out his name, before the world shifts and changes around her. Suddenly, she's a lifetime away.

 

When she comes back to herself, she's settled in a chair, Rufus by her side. Concern is etched across his features, and she smiles reassuringly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. Before they can get too caught up, she pulls back, glancing around. "Flynn?"

 

"Right here." The voice comes from behind her, but he doesn't give her a chance to look back, just comes around her and holds out a glass of water. She takes it, drinks, and gathers her thoughts.

 

"You had another vision?" She can hardly blame Rufus for the worry in his eyes, especially when she nods. Lately, the visions have been nothing but torture. This one, however, is different.

 

"What was it about?"

 

She turns to Flynn, meets his eyes, and tells him. "You." He blinks, obviously not expecting that, and she draws in a breath. "You were at a wedding, like this, but you were dancing with your daughter. Your real daughter." At the awestruck hope in his eyes, she quickly clarifies, "I don't know if it was Iris, or another daughter. One you haven't had yet. But she called you 'Dad.' You were both so happy…”

 

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he reaches out, briefly squeezing her hand. "Thank you. Now," he adds, clearing his throat, at if trying to push past the emotions of the past few minutes, "Go. Dance with your husband."

 

He doesn't have to tell her twice.

 

(She hugs him tightly before she goes, and he trembles, just a bit, in her arms. There's so much about his future that she doesn't know, but in her vision, he was happy, and he had a family. Maybe that's all that matters.) 

**Author's Note:**

> Is the daughter Jiya saw Iris? Is she another child he and Lorena will have? Is she his and Lucy's daughter? Honestly, even I don't know, but I hope you enjoyed, in any case!!!


End file.
